


The Lucky Ones

by redstaronmyshoulder (CaptainAmelia22)



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel
Genre: #BuckyNat Week, Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:46:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3585195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAmelia22/pseuds/redstaronmyshoulder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The little cat has two owners which makes mornings a little complicated.</p>
<p>For all of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lucky Ones

It is not Natasha’s green eyes he wakes up to one morning.

“Liho,” he groans, the little black cat’s name falling from his lips like a curse.  “What are you doing up so early?”

She just blinks at him and flicks her tail against his stomach.  

Rolling his eyes at the obvious disapproval radiating from her tiny body he tosses his arm over his eyes and groans. 

“Go away,” he mumbles, rocking his hips a little in the hope that she will jump off; she doesn’t.  Tiny needle-sharp claws dig into his bare skin instead and he yelps.  “It’s way too early to feed you Lili!  So stop it!”

Another sharp dig and he bites back a curse.  

“Lili, I swear on Thor’s shiny breastplate, that if you don’t stop that, I’m going to throw you back out onto the streets!”

_Blink._

He sighs when she yawns, completely unfazed by his empty curse (how can he get rid of her?  She’s not even  _his_  cat…), and the faint dawn light glints off of her tiny, white fangs.  With a muttered and another roll of his eyes, he reaches up to scratch her ears.

“Yeah,” he mutters, smiling absently when she begins to purr.  “I’m just a big softie, aren’t I?” 

She chirps at that, ears pricking forward and he sighs again.

“All right, fine.  You’ve succeeded in getting me up now, so let’s get you fed.”  He pokes her in the soft roll of her belly that he can just barely see between her front legs and she chirps again.  He chuckles and boops her on the nose.  “Yeah, you’re wasting away, aren’t you, you little fiend,” he mutters, scooping her up into his arms before rolling out of bed.  

She purrs louder, tiny nails digging into the grooves of the arm and he smiles absently when she scrambles up the cool metal to perch in her usual place on his shoulder.  

“What am I going to do with you, Lili?” he mutters, heading for the kitchen and her can of Friskies chicken gibblets.  

Soft, velvety, black fur rubs against his ear and for a moment he hears nothing but her rumbling purrs.  

“Damn cat,” he grumbles with very little malice in his voice.  “You are such a chub.”  

The can lid pops open with very little resistance and the tiny kitchen fairly quakes with the increased volume of her purring.

Tiny paws march in time against the silvery metal of his prosthetic and she licks his ear in approval a few times while he scoops a spoonful of meat product and gravy into a china bowl engraved with her name.  

“Okay, okay,” he laughs as he reaches up to untangle her from his shoulder.  “I hear you!  Eat up, you fatty, before I take it away.”  

A flick of her tail and a contented chirp greets his words and the dish, and then she sets to with too much glee for such a petite being.  

He watches her for a moment, a small smile on his lips, and he runs his fingers along the arch of her back, watching as the silver of his fingers slides through her black fur.  

“Be good for her, Liho,” he says quietly when she’s done and cleaning the carnage from her whiskers and chin.  “Remind her she’s loved, for me.”

She butts her head against his chin, making him laugh and she chirps in approval when he scratches her ears once more.

“And don’t eat too much at her place either, okay?” he says, poking her in the stomach once more, much to her abject disapproval.  “You know what the vet said the last time I had to take you, okay?  You get too grumpy when I have to put you on a diet.”  

The little cat just blinks at him for a few moments before rubbing her face along his fingers and then with an imperious flick of her tail, she darts from the kitchen towards the back door. 

His lips twitch at the sound of the cat door clicking and sighs before reaching for her heavy dish.  

“Eating me out of house and home, the chub,” he mutters to himself, placing the dish in the sink.  He leans his arms against the edge and stares out the window for a long moment, his mind in an entirely different part of New York City than Brooklyn.  

“Love her for me, Lili,” he whispers to the tiny black cat he knows is slinking through Brooklyn with an unusually strong-willed sense of purpose.  

“Love her like she deserves.”

**

She wakes to the sound of little paws squeaking on her bedroom window.

“Ugh,” she groans, her face turning into her pillow and her eyes squeezing closed defensively.  “Go away Cat.”  

Those damn little paws stop for a moment but before she can relax back into sleep (Too easy, too easy…) they begin once more.

Faster and with much more desperation than before.  

Tiny claws shriek on the glass and she winces. 

“Cat!” she half-shouts, half-curses and she rolls of the bed to throw open the window.

Delicate paws thud with emphasis on her desk and the little cat chirps happily at her, bright green eyes seeming to say hello.

“I suppose you want to be fed, hmm?” she murmurs, stretching out a hand to scratch the cat’s ears.  

Loud purrs roll free of its chest and she snorts before turning away to go into the kitchen.

“Come on then, you cub,” she mutters, her lips quirking at the sound of those damned paws padding along behind her.  “I think I have another can of your muck somewhere around here.”

(There are twelve cans.  Not that she’s going to tell the cat that.  It’ll never leave then…)

An empty butter container sits on the counter, The Cat’s name scrawled on its front in permanent marker and she grabs a can of Friskies chicken and gibblets from the cabinet.

“All right, all right.  I hear you, you little fatty,” she grumbles, carefully popping the lid so the gravy doesn’t get on her fingers.  “Breakfast gloop coming right up.  Eat it before I barf.”

Rumbling purrs greet the bowl with its gravy and meat product and she smiles to herself.  With a groan and a slight pop of stiff joints, she sits beside the little cat and trails her fingers along its silken back.  

“Where do you go every night, you little fiend?” she asks absently, toying with the cats tail as she watches its little paws march happily in time and pink tongue lap at the brown gravy.  “I can’t be the only one who feeds you…”

The cat just winks one green eye at her from over its shoulder and flicks its tail before cleaning the rest of the bowl with a few contented laps of its tongue.  

She sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Little fatty,” she says, scooping the cat into her arms with a soft laugh and rough scratch to its ears. “You just like me because I feed you.”  

A silken paw presses into her collar bones and the cat butts her head under her chin, purring all the while.

Natasha smiles sadly to herself, scratching the cat’s velvety black ears gently.  

“Well, whoever you’re sharing me with is very lucky Liho,” she murmurs absently, the cat’s name falling from her lips unnoticed.  

The cat purrs all the louder at that and closes her eyes contentedly, settling deeper into her mistress’s arms with a sigh.  

Natasha smiles and leans her head back against the cupboard under the sink.  

“Very lucky indeed,” she murmurs to no-one in particular.

No-one in particular at all…


End file.
